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Ryan Sylander
Looking Through The Lens http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/ryansylander/www/ Chapter 17
Reality returned all of the sudden. “Shit, the cameras!” Heather and I jumped up and ran over to the tripod. We stopped still for a moment, marveling at the luck: the tripod was centered directly over the sprinkler head! We looked at each other incredulously, and then grabbed it and went to check on the other things. We were not as lucky with the guitar and camera bags. The guitar was lying on the fringe of the sprinkler’s reach, but I could see little beads of water clinging to the top. I picked it up, and water dripped off the edge as I shook it. Our camera bags were fortunately closed. We collected the stuff and hurried out of the area before the sprinkler circled around again. “Is your guitar alright?” “It’s a little wet. Don’t worry about it, though, I’m sure it will be fine,” I said. I didn’t really know that for sure, but I wasn’t about to let a little water rain on the euphoria I was still feeling. Some water had obviously gotten inside, but I couldn’t get a good feel without taking the strings off. Not that I had anything to dry it with; our clothes were wet too. “How’s your camera?” I asked. “The outside of the bags are soaked, but it didn’t get through to the inside.” “That’s a relief.” The cameras were worth much more than the guitar was. Heather suddenly started laughing. “What?” I asked. “We look a mess!” I looked at her. Her hair was wild and wet, and her white t-shirt was patched with swing-set sand. I surely looked about the same. Our stuff was strewn about on the sidewalk. We were a mess. I had to laugh with her.
“What are you’re parents going to say?” she asked. “Nothing, they’ll think it’s funny. If they’re even awake.” We had gingerly packed the cameras away, hoping the water wasn’t still making its way through the thick padding. The guitar couldn’t go in the case since I had left it open, and it too was soaked. I had to carry the guitar and case separately and let Heather carry my camera bag. “You can borrow one of my shirts, if you want,” I offered. “That would be great. I hate sandy clothes.” We walked in comfortable silence for a little while, returning to earth. I was smiling the whole way home. Every time I glanced at Heather, she was smiling too. The house was dark when we got there, so we went around back and through the porch entrance, since that was always unlocked for us. Lara and James were lying on the couch, and they sat up much too quickly when I walked in. Even after some brief adjustments, their clothes were clearly disheveled. I grinned slightly as I wiped my feet on the mat. “Hey,” I said. “What happened to you? You look like you got run over by a truck.” Lara said, as she stared at me in the faint light of the living room. Heather came in behind me. “Oh, hi Heather, didn’t see you there. Night swim?” “No, park sprinklers,” Heather said. “My guitar got all wet,” I said, holding it out. “That sucks,” James said. “Is everyone asleep?” I asked. “Yeah, I think so.” “We’re going to change. We’ll go out the front when I walk Heather home,” I said deliberately. Lara nodded slightly and Heather and I went to my room and set our stuff down on the floor. I dug out a plain t-shirt from my drawer and tossed it to Heather. “Do you want some shorts too?” I whispered. “Sure.” I passed her a pair. “Um, can I use the shower?” she asked. “Or will it wake everyone up?” “I guess it’s alright, we shower at night pretty often since it’s so humid.” She smiled knowingly. “I’ll be right back,” she said. Heather came close and kissed me sweetly. I wanted to follow her to the bathroom, but decided that would be too forward. I changed quickly, and pulled all the camera equipment out of the bags so they could dry. The guitar was dry on the outside by then, so I just propped it up in the corner, hoping it was going to survive the bath it had had. My mind was still swirling from the incredible evening. Now it really was coming to an end, since Heather had to be back home in twenty minutes. But she was mine. There were so many possibilities with her coming skiing, and maybe even fly-fishing. We still had six days together for this summer, but I didn’t feel the anxious urgency I had felt the previous year with Julie. Heather came back, wearing my clothes. I took her clothes and put them in a plastic bag for her, noting with an excited twinge the bra strap that hung out of the ball of sandy, wet cloth. She sat on my bed absently smoothing the sheet with her hand. How I wanted to lay in it with her! “I’ll walk you home,” I offered. “That would be nice, but you don’t have to.” “No, I want to.” She reached out an arm to me. I took her hand, and she pulled me towards her. Instead of having me help her up like I expected, she pulled me down. I knelt in front of her and she kissed me deeply, holding my head with her hands. My door was open but I didn’t really care. She broke off and held me close in a hug, running her hand through my hair. “You said some beautiful things to me tonight, Matt. This is a night I’ll never forget for the rest of my life. I’m so happy right now.” “Me too,” I agreed. “My face is sore from smiling so much.” Heather giggled. I had to remind her gently that everyone was sleeping. “I should go. I don’t want to press my luck coming home late and not be able to hang out the rest of the week.” “Do you want to leave your camera stuff here to dry?” “That would be great, thanks.” I pulled Heather up and we went out the front door and into the night. The walk to her house was too short. “I’m sorry I can’t fish tomorrow morning, I have to work until three,” she said. “Can I come see you?” “I’d love that! You can meet my Dad, too.” My heart skipped a beat. “He’s cool,” she added. “I think he’ll like you.” “Alright. Do you have a lunch break?” “Yeah, come by around eleven thirty.” “I’ll be there, and I’ll bring food,” I said. We kissed a final time, before she slipped into her house. When I got home, I wanted to tell Lara about the night, but James was still there when I peeked through the glass door going out to the porch. I couldn’t quite see them clearly from the angle, but there was some movement. I smiled, happy that Lara was occupied, and went to bed.
“A little daring, don’t you think?” I plopped down on Lara’s bed as she worked on picking up a weeks worth of clothes. That was about sixty items for her, fifteen for me. “What are you talking about?” asked Lara. “Action on the porch last night.” “We weren’t doing anything,” she said innocently, but she closed the door to her room. “Right.” “How would you know anyway, were you spying on me?” “Not really. I wanted to talk when I got home, so I did peek in the window. You looked… busy.” “How much did you see?” “Not much, don’t worry.” “I’m not worried.” “Alright, next time I’ll come in and make myself comfortable.” “Bring some popcorn.” “You’re silly.” “So what’s up with Heather?” she asked. “She blew me off last night.” Lara whirled around and stared at me open-mouthed. “What?” “She told me that she didn’t want to be with me like that.” “What!? What did you tell her?” “I told her how I felt. She said it was sweet but she didn’t feel that way.” Lara stared at me some more. I was starting to have trouble not smiling. “You’re fucking with me, I can see your mouth twitching!” Finally I broke out into a laugh. “Shit, I was so close to seeing you eat your bathing suit!” “You…!” She leapt on the bed and started tickling me. I defended myself and counterattacked, but she was more fired up than I was. I was still laughing from her expression. Finally I had to admit defeat since she was on top. “So tell me the real story now,” she said, flopping onto the bed next to me. “We kissed for a long time. It was incredible. I felt like I was floating in space.” “Oh, that’s cool! What happened to Bill?” “She broke up with him a few nights ago.” Lara jumped up and pointed at me. “See! See! I told you!” “Yeah, you were right. She feels the same way.” “Matt, that’s awesome.” “We’re having lunch together in an hour.” “I’m very happy it worked out, Matt.” There was a brief silence as Lara lay down next to me again. “Don’t you ever feel like watching someone have sex?” she asked suddenly. I sniggered at her return to the previous subject. I knew she was thinking of that for some reason. “I haven’t really thought about it.” “I do. I think it would be hot. Last month at Amanda’s house when I slept over, she had swiped a porn movie from her brother’s room. Everyone was making fun of it, but it was also making me way horny.” “Well, that’s kind of the point, isn’t it?” “Yeah. But I’d love to see it live.” “Good luck.” “Why?” “It’s not like you can just walk into town and go to a peep show.” “I was thinking you.” “Me?!!” I exclaimed. “Shh!” “Me?” I repeated, more quietly. “Yeah. Some day. I know things are still fresh with Heather, but…” I just stared at Lara, sure she was kidding. “So you want to watch me, having sex?” I asked. “Yeah.” So simple. I might as well have asked her if she wanted lemonade with dinner. “You’re crazy.” “Why?” “I… I don’t know, but you are.” “Don’t you want to watch James and me?” she asked. “That’s a private event, I think.” “Why? I wouldn’t mind.” “I figured that out already.” “I have an idea,” she said excitedly. I rolled my eyes. Lara had a habit of making concrete plans before I even agreed to participating at all. “This I want to hear.” “Tonight,” she said simply. “Tonight what?” “Tonight, James and I will be on the porch couch again. Watch us through the window.” “You can’t see the couch from the window.” “No, the outside window. From the steps.” I sighed. “Lara, that’s crazy. Besides, that’s not fair to James.” “James won’t care. We’ve talked about it.” “Talked about what?” “You watching. Well, sort of.” I looked her in the eye. “What are you talking about?” “Well, when you got back together with Julie, it kind of came out. That I wanted to see you two having sex.” “How the hell did that even come up?!” “I don’t know, it just did. We were talking about you and her, wondering if you were having sex yet. Then I said we should go peek in and see. Too bad, we could have watched her give you seven blowjobs.” “Three.” “Whatever. James could have learned something.” “So let me guess, he wants to watch too.” “He thought… Well, we thought it would be fun if we all had sex at the same time. Not with each other, just watched each other as we did it.” Jeez, I’m surrounded by sexual freaks, I thought. At least Heather seems normal. But why was I feeling a little aroused, then? “Lara, you have a twisted imagination.” “You’ve never thought of something like that, even for a second?” “Well, I don’t know. I’ve thought about you, me and Julie, since you kept bringing it up every ten minutes for a while there.” Lara smiled sweetly at me. “So are you going to watch tonight?” she pressed. “Lara, I don’t think so.” “Well, we’ll be there after everyone is in bed.” “Don’t wait for me to get started.” “We won’t.” She grinned at me. “What am I going to do with you?” I said. “I can think of several things,” she said suggestively. I laughed as I shook my head, and then got up. I had to walk into town and buy some food for lunch, and it was getting close to eleven. “I have to go, I’ll see you later.” “Tonight.” “Later,” I stressed. She stuck her tongue out at me. I just rolled my eyes.
I brought a nice lunch of bread, cheese, and fruits over to Martin’s, in a picnic basket that my aunt had procured. I also put in a purple flower I cut from Beth’s front garden. She had suggested it. We sat on the deck behind the market, dangling our feet over the water as we opened the basket. “Thanks for bringing food, I’m starved,” Heather said. I held the flower out to her awkwardly. “Here, this is for you.” “Oh, Matt, thank you!” I shrugged. “You’re welcome.” She plucked off some of the stem and then threaded it into her hair. She smiled coyly at me. “You look… beautiful,” I said. “I may have to stay here and guard against any customers taking you home.” “You want to stay and help?” Heather asked. “Yeah, I’ll stand guard at the door.” “I’m serious, do you want to work the shop?” “Um, I don’t know anything about selling fish.” “I’ll show you. I’ll ask my Dad if it’s cool, he’s supposed to be here soon.” “No, I don’t want to get in the way. Plus I was meeting my Mom in a couple of hours, she was taking me out to get more film and drop the one from last night off.” “Alright. Hey, don’t look at the pictures without me, huh?” “Okay, I’ll hold off.” “Cool. So what do we have for lunch?” Heather asked. Someone loomed up behind us. “Hello,” the man said. “Hi Dad,” Heather said cheerily. “This is Matt.” I stood up and stretched out my hand. “Hello,” I said. “Morning, Matt. Aongus Martin.” Heather wasn’t kidding, he was Irish. His accent was thick. He grinned at me as we shook hands, and then clapped me on the shoulder. “Good to finally meet you,” he added. Finally? I smiled slightly as I glanced at Heather. “You too, Mr. Martin.” “Aongus, please. Otherwise you and I will have trouble!” He stared at me seriously for a long moment, and then laughed. At least I know where Heather gets some of her teasing from, I thought. I grinned back. “So, looks like a nice picnic,” Aongus said. “Bring enough for me?” Heather rolled her eyes. “Sure,” I said, “have a seat.” “Well, Mairead would use me as bait if she found out I scorned her lunch for a seaside picnic. Nice meeting you Matt. I wish I could stay, but the customers are lining up.” He turned and went back to the market. As he was about to enter the doorway, he looked to us. “Heather, shouldn’t you invite Matt for dinner one of these evenings?” “Yes, Dad,” she called back. He smiled sincerely and disappeared. We returned to unpacking the meal. “Sorry,” Heather said. “About what? He’s really nice.” “He can get to be a little over the top. If you come for dinner you’ll see what I mean.” “So?” “So what?” “Dinner?” Heather smiled. “Right. When can you come?” “Anytime, I’m sure.” “How about tomorrow? I’ll need to check with my parents, but…” “Sure, just let me know. What are you doing tonight, though?” “Nothing much.” “There was talk of eating grilled fish at my place, do you want to come?” I asked. “I’d love to,” Heather said. She leaned over and kissed me. “Mmm, this lunch is great,” Heather said. “I love picnics, just munching on different things, simple and yummy.” I grinned to see her happy. The magic from the night before had not faded.
Later that afternoon I was sitting on the porch playing my guitar, which fortunately seemed unaffected by the moisture it had absorbed the night before. Lara came out from the house frowning slightly. “How old is Heather?” “Our age, I guess, why?” “She just pulled up in a car.” “So?” I put my guitar down and got up. “She was driving it!” Lara said. “She was driving it?!” “That’s what I said.” There was a knock on the door. As I went to answer it I noticed a red Ford Escort wagon parked in my aunt’s drive. When I opened the door, Heather was smiling at us. “Hi!” she said. “Hey! You’re early,” I said. “Not that that’s bad, but I thought you were coming around six.” “Change of plans. Have you started making dinner yet?” “No, we were just going to grill some fish and have some salad. Nothing like last night, sorry,” I added. Heather smiled warmly. “Do you want to go out instead? I want to take you somewhere.” I glanced at the car. “Is that your car?” “My Mom’s. She let me use it for the night.” “I didn’t know you drove,” I said. “How old are you?” Lara asked. “Sixteen,” Heather said. “When’s your birthday?” “July 10.” Lara and I looked at each other, mouths open. “What?” Heather asked. “You are right between us,” I explained. “Mine is July 13, and Lara’s is July 7.” “But a year after you,” Lara added. “That’s so cool!” Heather said. “What time?” Lara asked her. “Time?” “Yeah, what time were you born?” “Um, I think it was in three in the afternoon.” “No way! Matt and I are six days and six hours apart. You are right between us!” “Three days, three hours. What are the chances?” I said. Heather laughed. “Too doo doo doo,” she sang, imitating the Twilight Zone theme. “So where are we going?” I asked. “Not telling. Can you come? You can come too,” she added, addressing Lara. “No, thanks, I’m meeting James later.” “I’ll check with my folks, hold on,” I said. I ran out to the beach where the adults were lounging. After a short discussion about how long she had been driving, and road safety, my mothers allowed me to go. Surprisingly they didn’t want to talk to Heather about it. I bounced back into the house, wondering where she could possibly be taking me. Heather had both our camera bags over her shoulder as we walked out, but she was moot on the destination when I asked again. “So you never said you drove. I guess I didn’t even know you were sixteen.” “I just got my license a few weeks ago. Right before our vacation. I got a lot of practice driving to Ohio and back.” “It’s cool that your Mom lets you use the car.” “This is the first time she let me out alone, actually.” Suddenly the significance of her driving dawned on me. “Do you think they’d ever let you drive up to the Catskills?” “I don’t know. It’s a long way. But I’ve thought of it too. Still, like I said, we come up there a few times in the winter. We will see each other this year.” “I know. I can’t wait to get my license.” “Start practicing with your Mom somewhere, that’s what I did all last year, drove around parking lots. When I got to my test I aced it.” “That’s a good suggestion.” Heather pulled into a sandwich shop parking lot. “Let’s order and eat quick,” she said.
“Now will you tell me where we are going?” I asked, as we pulled out of the lot. “Church,” Heather said simply. “Church? At this hour?” I was a bit puzzled. Never mind that I had never heard her talk about church before. “There’s a concert.” “Oh, cool. What kind of music?” “A Christian pop band.” “Christian pop?” I asked, skeptically. She seemed serious, though. “Yeah. It’ll be fun.” “I don’t know, that sounds weird.” Heather smiled at me. “You’re all worried, aren’t you?” “Worried? About what?” “You’re wondering if there’s something I haven’t told you.” “Well, if you go to church that’s fine. I just never have heard you mention it.” “I don’t go to church, except sometimes to listen to music.” “That’s cool, but Christian pop music? Is it that good?” “You know, I don’t consider myself to be religious at all. But, for a long time, a lot of great music has been written because of religion. If nothing else, that’s one positive thing that has come from it.” “I don’t know, my friend Carl, his mom listens to a Christian station on the radio, and every time we ride in her car she has it on full blast. I can’t stand the stuff, it’s all like cheesy elevator music. I keep waiting for someone come on to say ‘Clean up on aisle four.’” Heather laughed. “Well, then I guess you’re in for a long night.” She gave me a pat on the knee as she pulled into the church parking lot. The lot was full of cars, so we parked far away and then hurried over to the church. Heather pulled me along, saying we were late. Once inside the foyer, a few people were milling around. They were all older adults, probably church members. This looked bad; if they were here for this music, that was not a good sign. Heather went up to the table and paid for us to get us in. She rejected the offer of a program. I laughed to myself at the image of our band handing out programs if we played at a party. “C’mon,” she urged, pulling me through the doors and into the great room. The place was mostly full of retirees. There were no people our age in sight. I was pretty sure I was going to see Carl’s mom in the audience. Heather led me up the long aisle, past rows of pews full of thick eyeglasses and hearing aids. We sat in the front row. In front of us was an orchestra, I noticed with surprise. Violins, cellos, basses, and some trumpets were tuning, and a choir stood on risers behind them. A harp stood on one side. All the musicians and singers were in simple black pants and shirts. The musicians went quiet, and then people suddenly started clapping for no reason, which unnerved me. I noticed a woman, also in black, was walking across the front of the stage. The singer, I wondered? She acknowledged the audience and then stepped up onto a small riser in front of the orchestra, and faced away from us, immobile. “What…” “Shh…” Heather said, finger to lips. Nothing happened for a while. People quieted down, and the coughs and shuffling faded away. Then the woman held up her hands and the music started. The first strains sounded nothing like Carl’s mother’s music, and I realized Heather had been pulling my leg. The music started like currents in a deep river pool, and then the voices joined in. The sound was comforting, yet foreign. At first it took a while to make sense of what I was hearing, as different melodies drifted in and out of the music, almost dreamlike. A deeply resonant sound supported wisps of choir. Everything was smooth and airy. I noticed that someone was playing the church organ. I turned and looked at Heather. She leaned in to my ear. “Just open your mind, let go of the world, and enjoy.” She smiled and held my hand tightly. As I listened to the music, I tried to wrap my ears around it. Nothing repeated itself. Phrases gently pushed and pulled me this way and that, building up and then subsiding. As the concert progressed, I found myself being inexorably drawn into the music. Barely five minutes into the piece, I felt chills and goose bumps as all the different voices that were flirting with each other at the fringes suddenly melded into a long arching climax. Nothing in this music was immediate; everything grew and evolved slowly, and yet there was no stopping the movement towards perfect release. At that moment, I wondered if this is what making love to Heather would be like. The concert was filled with great beauty and mystery. There were moments where time seemed to stand still, and long sustained chords shifted back and forth between organ, choir and strings. Then the music would shift color, like suddenly it was illuminated from a different angle. The musicians could go from barely audible to intensely overpowering seemingly at will. It was eye-opening, although I didn’t really understand this music much. Still, I didn’t need to understand it to be moved by it. The piece seemed to have several parts, since the music would stop for a bit, the musicians would turn a page, and then go on. At the end of one particularly quiet and introspective section that seemed to just float in the air like a dandelion seed in the moonlight, the woman conducting slowly let her hands drop. A low organ note that was barely audible supported a shimmering mix of strings and voices. The music faded and then stopped. The conductor was immobile, head bowed. The church was stone silent. I was amazed at how quiet several hundred people could be. I realized I was sitting on the edge of my seat, still gripping Heather’s hand. Our palms were sweaty. Nothing moved, and my body was tense. Then the place erupted in applause. I looked at Heather. She was smiling at me. The audience around us was standing to clap, as the conductor and musicians stood and faced out. We stood as well, applauding energetically. Heather let out a loud farm whistle. When the clapping finally subsided, I sat down again. “Let’s go,” she said. “What, is that it?” “So now you want more?” she said with a grin. “Yeah, that was…awesome. In the real sense of the word.” “Well, they are taking a break now.” “Already?” I looked at my watch. Forty minutes had gone by. It didn’t seem like it. “Come on.” We walked out into the evening, past groups of chatting people. The sunset was shaping up to be particularly wonderful. “I don’t want to stay for the second half,” she said. “Why not?” “The next piece isn’t going to be as good.” “Alright, if you say so.” I was curious about what else they would play, but if Heather said it wouldn’t be as good, then I didn’t want to lose the high I felt right then. I trusted her too much to protest. “I mean, if you want to stay, then we can,” she said. “No, I trust you. Let’s go somewhere else,” I said. We walked to the car in silence. “So what was that?” I asked, finally. “Christian pop,” she said simply. “No, give me a break. I know it was classical music, but what was it called?” “It was a requiem.” “What’s that?” “Mass for the Dead.” I was surprised to hear that. “That wouldn’t have been my first guess. Or tenth, for that matter,” I admitted. “Well, if I ever die, that’s what I want played for me.” “If?” “Yeah, it might happen some day.” “Might? We all die sometime.” “Speak for yourself, Matt, I’m going to live forever” she said, a glint in her eye. “Alright, good luck with that.” “Thanks. But if I do die someday, that’s the music I want.” “I can see why, it was beautiful. Who wrote that?” “Bon Jovi.” “Heather, quit it, for once please be serious! You’re ruining the effect of the music.” Heather stopped and turned to me, her expression soft. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize. I guess you really liked it then?” “Yeah, I did.” “Durufle.” “What?” “That’s who wrote it. Maurice Durufle.” “Who’s that?” “Some dead French dude.” I laughed at her description. “Thanks for taking me to that. It was amazing.” Heather smiled. “Do you have that music at home?” I asked. “Yeah.” “Can we go get it?” “Now? No, not tonight. We just heard it live. It won’t be as good in the car. But we can listen to it later this week again, if you want.” “Alright.” I nodded. “Now what?” Heather shrugged. “That’s all I had planned.” “Let’s go to the beach, then.” “Beach?” “Yeah, let’s take some sunset pictures.”
Heather and I parked and walked down to the beach. It was a perfect 360 degree sunset. I swung her off my arm and got out my camera, affixing the 85mm lens. God, she looked good. The warm light gave her hair red highlights and lit her eyes up like jewels. I stood back a bit, metered the scene, focused the lens on her, and opened it wide. I wanted to get only her in focus, and let the background blur out into a wash of sunset pastels. I snapped a few quick shots as she watched me with a smile. “More attitude,” I said. She changed her posture, crossing her arms against her chest. The soft light on her hard pose was an interesting union. Click, click, click. Her look was a bit too stern. “Smile a little, though.” She gave me a mischievous smile. I knew this would be a great shot. Click! “What’s wrong?” Heather asked. I was fumbling with my camera, face heating up, and not sure what had happened. Had she really just …? “Film is jammed or something.” I stammered. She came over, took the camera from me, and wound the lever. “Seems to be alright to me,” she said, grinning viciously. I looked at her briefly, and then took the camera back. There was a long silence, as I pretended to change some settings on the lens. The light was fading, but it didn’t matter, I was done taking pictures. I had no idea what to say though, so I looked through the lens at the sunset, and snapped a few random shots with shaky hands. “I know what you’re thinking,” she said quietly into my ear. Although she wasn’t touching me, I could feel that she was quite close to me. My blood was rushing through me like a wild stream. “You’re wondering,” she went on, each word dripping deliberately off her tongue and splashing on my ear, “if you really saw what you think you saw.” She had done it then! It was fast, but not faster than the picture. I was pretty sure that she had moved her arms as I took that last shot of her. Pretty sure she had moved aside her top briefly!
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